Book -11 Aliens novella - стр. 4

«And maybe I'm full and I will have a turn in the intestines?" – I thought cautiously. And he did not dare to ask a clever beekeeper about this, instead he asked:

– I'm driving, but, what is this for your mug like that?

– What is this?

– Well, such here, like and small, and heavy. "I turned a copper mug in my hands,

– From our house and a large mug, and light.

– Well, so you have, and then we have.

This usually ended the conversation. But, I wanted to talk. I looked inquisitively at the gray, shaggy eyebrows of the old man, and continued:

– And what are you reading?

– What do I read? Err, it's still too early for you to know.

He closed the massive binding of the book and pushed the thick volume aside. Then he got up from his chair, attentively, examining some lines traced in pencil on the windowsill. The shadow from the window frame already coincided with one of them. Gruffly grunting, the old man said:

– Well, now it's time to go lady.

It was insulting in the heart of the old man. And what is he so taciturn, scares the honey that appeared on his stomach. Yes, apparently, the bee- keeper does not like the guests. On the way home, I stopped in front of the garden fence. He looked around at the sides, then hastily pulled up his shirt and carefully examined his stomach. The belly glistened with droplets of sweat that protruded all over its surface, and those droplets were so similar to the droplets of honey that the finger unwittingly reached out to the sticky beads and collected several on a bundle of finger. To taste, the droplets turned out to be the most ordinary bottoms and were bitterly saline. If only his boys noticed him, friends. Peace would run away from him forever. But they were not there and the boy continued to study his bulging belly. He even turned to the sun, but all in vain, except for small sparkles- drops of sweat, honey was nowhere to be found. So the beekeeper deceived him? Again, annoyance came to the throat of a treacherous lump. I frowned, tucked my shirt into my pants, put on my right shoulder a harness- brace, so that they would not fall off, jump over the fence …

Summer, hot season for rural workers working in the field. Summer day passes quickly, like one minute. For children running to kindergartens, and schoolchildren vacationing on vacation, the summer day rushes in a moment, changing the morning to noon, noon for the evening. And the herds are already roaring, returning from the pastures, in the brass rays of the setting sun. Hear calls from mothers calling home to play children.